From the Journal of Lady Teodorie
by Enno Vy
Summary: Let's give Lady Teodorie from Beka Cooper: Terrier the benefit of a doubt. Perhaps she has a personal pain that makes her act so unpleasantly.


From the Journal of Lady Teodorie

A/N: Maybe Lady Teodorie isn't such an unpleasant person after all. Let's give her the benefit of a doubt. All characters belong to Tamora Pierce, of course.

Gershom is out walking the streets with his Dogs again, since a Dog and a Puppy were killed on Beltane. He says he does it to reassure the remaining Dogs that their lives are important to him – that they are not slaves of the law, to live and die for it without thanks. "What of _your_ life?" I asked, as I always do. "What if some idiot decides to knife the Lord Provost?" It's not like he has no enemies in the Lower City! The family members of the Bold Brass Gang certainly bear no great love for him!

Gershom shrugged off my fears, as he always does. "I will be with _Dogs_, Teo," he pointed out. "What could be safer?"

I lost my temper. "How safe was it for that poor Puppy who died through her training Dogs' misjudgment and foolishness?"

Gershom turned and walked out then.

I suppose he had a right to be angry. After all, one of the training Dogs died as well that night. He paid the price for his miscalculation.

But what about me? If anything happens to Gershom – may the Goddess protect him tonight – what will I do? I _love_ him, and that is the source of all my bitterness. I love a man who will never love me the same way, who will never set me at the center of his universe, who will never anticipate coming home the way I eagerly await his return every evening. No, he lives in the world of the Provost's Guards, a world I can never enter.

Oh, I tried at first! When we had just married, I had my servants find out the names of all the different Watch Commanders of all the districts in Corus. I tried to evaluate their strengths and weaknesses the way Gershom does. I tried to be interested when he talked on and on about Guard business. But I'm _not_ interested. I do not like danger. Drama and risk are all very well to read about in novels – but I'd rather live knowing that my husband will come home to me alive every day. I want a peaceful life. I do not want to do great things, nor do I care if Gershom does. There is happiness to be found in simplicity and pleasure in tranquility. All I want is to be with Gershom in the evenings. I miss him during the day.

I tried telling him that a few days ago. We were in my sitting room. I'd been trying out a new embroidery stitch on one of his shirt collars and daydreaming about how handsome he'd look in it. When he walked in, I felt a rush of joy. "Look," I said proudly, holding up my work. "Perhaps you can wear this the next time we get a dinner invitation."

He peered intently at the stitching. I felt my usual fondness at his cluelessness when it comes to embroidery. Dear Gershom! He's brilliant at fighting crime, but he can't tell the difference between a chain stitch and a cross stitch. Men!

Laying aside the shirt, I stood on tiptoe to put my arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. He wrapped his long arms around me and we stayed like that for a few precious moments, me with my face pressed into the hollow of his shoulder and wishing I could stay there forever, him with his cheek resting tenderly against my head.

He broke the peaceful silence. "Teo, I'm going to walk the streets with the Evening Watch for the next few days."

I stiffened. "Do you have to?" I asked. Or maybe I whined. I'd been hoping to spend the evening after dinner with him undisturbed – just the two of us, talking and laughing quietly about nothing in particular until we go to bed. I _treasure_ those hours. Doesn't he know that? "Surely the Dogs know that you appreciate their service."

He sighed and rubbed my back. "Teo, I must _show_ them that I care and share in their grief. It helps their morale if I walk with them immediately after a tragedy like this."

I tipped my head back to look up at him pleadingly. "But – but I feel like I haven't seen much of you lately. You've been so busy. I was hoping – I was hoping – " I trailed off. How silly and trivial I sounded! Yet couldn't he see how much it meant to me to spend time with him besides sleeping in the same bed at night?

Gershom's expression turned annoyed, the way it always does when he thinks I'm clinging to him too tightly. "We spent plenty of time together yesterday," he stated flatly.

"Physically together, yes, with you buried in reports and me reading a book! How long has it been since the last time we had a decent conversation?"

He let go of me and took a step back. "This could have been one." He made a slight bow. "I will see you at dinner, my lady." Then he walked away.

I stood there for a few moments, stunned, dazed. Does our time together mean so little to him? Once, about a year ago, in a similar fight, he'd said slowly and reluctantly, "Teo, when I'm with you I want nothing more than to stay with you. But when I'm not – when I'm at work – there are just so many things to do and think about that – " he'd paused to pick his words while I waited in anguish – "that I just don't _think_ about coming home."

"Don't you _miss_ me?" I'd cried. "Don't you want to see me again?"

He'd looked at me with pity and compassion. "No," was his quiet reply. "No, I don't." Then he'd hugged me tightly, as if to shield me from that terrible admission.

So that is all that is wrong with my life. I am in love with a man who cares for me out of a sense of duty to home and family, but whose true passion lies in his work as Lord Provost. In an attempt to avenge my pain, I lock him out of my bedchamber on the nights he walks the streets – but it only hurts me more because I know it is a greater loss to me than to him. But that is life, isn't it? To accept the unacceptable and make it bearable, to live with the unbearable and go on smiling in spite of everything? The Goddess knows I should be used to it by now.


End file.
